


Overproof

by EdibleNonsense



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drinking, F/M, Ghosts (???), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Set after Tien's death in the Saiyan Saga, Swearing, blonde Launch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdibleNonsense/pseuds/EdibleNonsense
Summary: One last visit to see someone left behind.
Relationships: Launch/Tenshinhan (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	Overproof

“Another.” 

Resolutely spamming the glass on the bar’s wooden counter, Launch looked up. 

“Y-You sure, miss? Seems like you’ve been going through them pretty steadily so far…” The bartender’s words exposed his barely-contained worry over her mood. Something that had gone from bad to worse, to downright sloppy by the time in the evening when most other patrons had left. 

“Just hurry up!” she spat, her voice rising enough to turn heads from the few stragglers left. It had the desired effect on the bartender, who rushed to the back to pour another. 

In the meantime, she leaned forward again with her arms folded in front of her, back already aching from bending awkwardly over the too-short barstool to rest on the counter. It didn’t help that the only other cushion to rest her cheek on was her arms, almost numb from the weight of her head. 

Next to her on the ground, a burlap sack of rubber-banded bills lay half open. She remembered she had tried to place at such an angle that she could see it just out of the corner of her eye. Not that it really mattered to her anymore.

 _Who cares. Let ‘em steal it. It was stolen in the first place,_ she thought with an unusually strong pang of remorse. 

Barely aware of her surroundings, she stayed like that for another few minutes, trying desperately to focus on anything other than the reason she had come there in the first place. Lost in thought, she almost didn’t notice someone quietly take a seat next to her on the right with a glass already in their hand.

 _Why can't everyone in this damn bar just leave me alone?_ The thought crossed her mind that it could be an elderly patron who just wanted to chat. But she couldn’t really be bothered to check. Either way, this person’s head was just above her field of vision, their shoulders turned slightly away from her. 

Trying to keep her head from spinning any further, she groaned, roughly wiping her hands down her face. Eyes squinting to see in the dim light, she tried to focus on the scratches on the wood in front of her to steady her concentration. 

“What are ya drinking?” she finally croaked out. Might as well make bullshit conversation to pass the time. 

“Water.” The man’s voice was low.

“What’s… what’s the damn point of going to a bar and not drinkin’?” Another piercing ray of pain shot through her head and she winced again, hands covering her face.

A blanket of silence fell over them before he spoke again. “I’ve got somewhere else to go after this,” he replied in a low whisper, almost regretfully. 

_Just like everyone but me._ “Great.” 

The sarcastic word hung in the air as they sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds around them being the scuffle of feet and mumbled conversations from the other patrons in the building. 

But she could feel his eyes on her, the passive and almost statue-like body language that indicated he was mindful of what she was doing. 

She couldn’t take it anymore. 

“You got something to say to me?” she finally snapped, not bothering to move from her slumped-over position with her head in her hands. She knew she was leaving herself open and that if this got ugly, then it would get really ugly. Truthfully, maybe part of her almost wished it would. 

“I…” Another hesitation from him, much like the one before. “I wanted to ask how you were feeling.” 

A dry laugh was the only reply she could muster. 

Another moment passed, another beat of pure silence.

“I’m sorry,” came his whispered reply. Something behind the tone made her heart instinctively clench, but the words caught her off-guard and a scoff left her mouth before she had a chance to stop it. 

“And… what…” It took her a moment to find the words she needed as she fought another flash of heat on her cheeks coming from the beers catching up to her. “What the hell do you got to be—” She hiccuped briefly. “Sorry for?” 

No answer came forth. Instead, through the small gap in her hands, she saw him bend down to stare into his own drink without moving. In the back of her mind, she felt an odd sense of familiarity towards his body language. Maybe he was a regular here. It would explain how he was acting like he knew her in some way.

“Would it make you feel better if I left right now?” His voice was low, but there was a hint of finality to his question. 

“Yeah… m-maybe.” Speaking the words made her breath hitch. 

A short second after the words left her mouth, she felt the vibration of his stool being pushed back as he got up to leave, and just before she heard him walk away, she thought she felt something warm press against the back of her head, quick and soft. 

Too tired to register what occurred beyond a passing thought and a quick furrow of her eyebrows, she stayed slumped over, eyes screwed shut.

The bartender only broke her concentration again just as she was drifting off to sleep. 

“Miss? Miss?!” 

“Wh—” Launch finally lifted her head up and looked around to see the dim surroundings of the room completely abandoned except for the bartender crossing his arms in front of her. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s time to go. You’ve been keeping me from closing on time.” 

“I…” The migraine from earlier came pulsing back and was now threatening to make her fall off the stool completely. “Shit. Sorry,” she managed to eek out. Starting to stumble up from her seat, she suddenly paused. 

“Hey, uh. Wait.”

“What?” He asked impatiently, snatching the glass in front of her up and starting to wipe it down.

“Do ya happen to know that… that man who was sitting next to me?” 

“What man?” 

“The…” Pausing almost immediately, she sat in stunned silence as she realized she never turned to look at him face to face. “Oh damn. Forget it.”

“Well, I haven’t served anyone at the counter but you in the last few hours. So…” The unspoken assumption lingered between the two.

Shrugging once in defeat for an argument she realized she could never win, Launch bent down to snatch the burlap sack beneath her feet. Haphazardly slamming it on the counter, she muttered, “This is yours.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and then he reached forward to greedily scoop up the dollars spilling out of the opening. Blinking a few times, he tossed out a warm, “Come back any time you want, ma’am!” as she walked away.

“Hmm.” 

The cold air hit her in the face as soon as she stepped out of the bar, and the chill followed her all the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping my train of thought here wasn't too confusing to follow. I always wished we got a conclusion to the fact Launch was so torn up about Tien's death that she was drinking and giving away her money.
> 
> I wrote this in 24 hours (which is why it's so shoddy) and I'm forcing myself to publish it instead of letting it waste away in my WIP folders. But I really appreciate anyone who reads/kudos/comments, it means a lot.


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